Temper, temper.

Walter has been such a joy since his arrival.  Each child is a complete surprise, and you never know what little personality is showing up.  But we fell in love with him immediately, and he was a wonderful baby.  He slept (the most important quality in young children, I've decided), he smiled, he cuddled, and was content to just be.  

We got a glimpse of his little temper every now and then, but we couldn't be completely confident how strong it would be once he reached toddlerhood.  Well, it's here in full-bloom, and it is impressive.  While he continues to be happy and content 95% of the time, as soon as Walter decides he's angry, frustrated, or he doesn't get exactly what he wants at exactly the right time, then prepare yourself for the most epic temper tantrum of all time.  I'm talking face on the floor, kicking, arms flailing, and immediate and impressive crocodile tears.  And he can turn in on and off in approximately 0.25 seconds.  

A recent example, and my favorite temper tantrum to date,  occurred over July 4th weekend at our farm in Mississippi.  Walter fell in love with the tractors and 4-wheelers, and believed it was always his turn.  When his turn was over and Dad took Henry for a ride, this was the show we all received from the front porch.

Please note that he's rolling around amidst some seriously prickly pine cones.  I'm sure it only spurred the anger (since, like his mother, he gets really really angry when he gets injured).

When no one came to his rescue, but instead sat on the front porch and laughed and photographed this ridiculousness, he started aiming his screams at us.  Since I refuse to acknowledge or encourage such behavior, he doesn't get a lot of sympathy from our crew.

But the second he realized the sounds of the 4-wheeler were getting closer, the tears and screaming stopped and he popped up on his feet.  He then chased the 4-wheeler down, demanding another ride (note his brother happily leaving the 4-wheeler while little brother takes a turn).

There are some battles I refuse to fight.  Like when he wants the entire container of puffs when we're all trapped in a car where there's serious concern for eardrums.  Just give the baby his puffs - who cares?!?! Clearly, this is not my first child - never would have allowed such with Henry...

And then there are some special people in his life that will let him get away with almost anything to avoid that little temper.  Like his Gigi, who will squeeze him on her lap with his older brother for a ride.

 And his Aunt Lauren ("Lo Lo"), who has incredible patience with him.

But all-in-all, I'll cut the kid some slack.  All he really wants is to be a big boy and do a lot of things by himself.  Unfortunately,  he doesn't have many words yet, so I think this is the root of a lot of his frustration.  He's trying really hard to talk, but as of right now, everything sounds the same.  Unless he's roaring - that, he's mastered. :)

So if he wants to wear the teething necklaces around the house, why not?

And if he wants to spend 30 minutes practicing going up and down on the fireplace ledge, knock yourself out kid. [This is also a bizarre thing about his little personality - he's so careful about everything.  Careful in the water, careful about bumping his head, etc.  And in the past month, he's spent hours learning how to go up and down on this ledge without needing to bend over and also use his hands.  Complete and total opposite from Henry.]

 Make a horrendous mess by learning to use a spoon on your own? Fine with me!!!

And let your big brother teach you what to do with all these giant colored pieces of chalk while the big kids ignore you?  Precious.

So should you see us in public in the midst of a giant meltdown, please note it's not common.  But feel free to stick around for a minute because it can be quite entertaining.  Paul and I know the next few years are going to be a complete challenge as we try to mold this little personality without breaking any of his spirit.  But we'll do the best we can, and continue our fervent prayers for guidance.

I hereby dedicate this post to Paul.

I had grand intentions to write a post about Superdad Paul on Father's Day. Didn't happen. I had even better intentions of writing a post about both his Superdad and Amazing Husband abilities on our wedding anniversary last month. Also didn't happen.  I finally decided to make time to sit down and write this post after coming home from a 3-day work trip to a clean house and happy kids. 

Paul and I always laugh about us feeling like we have reverse roles in the suburban stereotype, at least when it comes to our work lives.  Paul's the teacher, I'm the lawyer.  He gets summers home with the kids, I don't.  Sometimes I have to travel for work, while he rarely does.  He drops off and picks up from daycare, I pick them up when I can (average once a month).  Many times, I'm rushing home, hoping traffic doesn't prevent me from missing dinner time, bath time, etc. The situation is a result of us loving what we do, even though I have been known to regularly shed a tear or two million over feelings of guilt about the lack of time I spend with my little ones.

Despite regular feelings of guilt, I cannot be thankful enough for Paul.  I know I'm lucky to have him, but sometimes the business and exhaustion of everyday life strips away my ability to step back and really and truly be grateful.  But the more time I spend with other people with small children, the more I realize how naturally fatherhood came for him.  Paul never thinks twice about bearing the brunt end with our little crazies  He entertains, feeds, disciplines, and deals with every other complication that comes with parenting toddlers.  And while he does all of it without complaint, I'm fairly certain he has a mental countdown until it's time to head back to school. :)

This summer, he has his hands full with two toddlers.  Part of their routine has been to expel energy first thing in the morning.  This typically requires a visit to a park.

 

Or the zoo.

The afternoons are trickier, however, because it's just too hot for outdoor activities.  This requires creativity because you have to find locations that are kid-friendly and not overly crowded.  They typically end up at the mall, Chick-Fil-A, or Jumpstreet.  The major downside to these locations is being confined indoors with poorly behaved children [Note: I could spend days blogging about the mother who refuses to parent her child in public so she can play on her iPhone.  Instead, I will say this: Parents (especially moms), quit letting your kids act like hoodlums and pay attention to them.  I'm tired (and so is Paul) of yelling at them when they push my kids and act like total brats.  Facebook isn't THAT interesting.]

 

The boys love getting to spend time with Dad because they get to do lots of special Dad stuff. Like go to the donut store.

I, personally, love having Paul home for the summer because he can take care of the stuff that's slipped through the cracks, like making sure Henry has shoes that can fit when he goes through yet another growth spurt.

But for those of you that are wondering, there are a few things Paul does not do.  He has drawn a line on a few things which he claims are "Mom" things.  The first is fingernails - the man has NEVER clipped a single fingernail on either child.  I hate cutting fingernails more than anything, so if you see my children and wonder why their nails are so long, this is why.  

Additionally, he leaves the hair cutting up to me.  I usually don't think too much about their hair until I suddenly look at them and realize they look like a girl.  Or Doc Brown (yes, Walter got a hair cut after documenting the wild-ness).

 

All in all, I'm a lucky girl.  I wish I could say that when I fell for this man more than a decade ago, I knew what a great father he would be... but that would be untrue.  Ultimately, I knew he was an amazing man and my best friend, but that didn't mean he'd be there for the tough parts of parenting (which I knew nothing of at the time).  And he is not only there for the tough parts, but he's there with patience that constantly amazes me. For that, I'm so very grateful. Thanks, Superdad.  You are truly the best.